Business As Usual
by Artemidora
Summary: All of them are good at pretending. House/Cuddy/Thirteen OT3, with denied romantic feelings between Thirteen and Cuddy; House/Cuddy referenced. A three-chapter ficlet with a touch of smut and a touch of angst. Finished.
1. Thirteen: Here And Now

It wasn't just her looks, although Remy wasn't fooling anyone when she said, weeks later, that she'd never looked down her shirt.

Least of all House. He kept his mouth shut, but they both knew that he saw right through her. After all, Lisa was his. Remy was only temporary. A toy. Not like House.

* * *

_I'd never imagined that I would actually land in her pants... er, skirt._

But here she was, in the upstairs bedroom of the Dean of Medicine, sandwiched between the legs of one Lisa Cuddy, who was herself sandwiched between House at her mouth and Remy at her core. And all of this was eliciting the most delightful sounds. Whimpers so helpless, moans so raw that Remy would have sworn it were someone else. If it weren't for those thick, dark curls.

It was intimidating, seeing her boss naked for the first time. Her male boss. Cuddy was one thing - a gorgeous thing - but House was quite another. She would never entirely get over seeing him drop his trousers and attack Cuddy's - Lisa's - lips. It was the shock of thinking sexually about him, in a personal sense, like never before. All that followed was less memorable. Later, Remy's memory of sucking his cock would be indistinct, but that first lunge would remain forever imprinted.

She was really in this for Lisa. This was something she and House had in common. It was Lisa who wanted them both at the same time. House acted blasé, and his arousal at sleeping with two pretty women was no act, but he was a little uncomfortable with the idea of sex with a subordinate. And, though he knew that Remy was attractive, he just wasn't particularly attracted _to_ her. Remy could sense it; she reciprocated the feeling. But both parties ignored their misgivings for Lisa's sake. And as much as she would allow it, they focused their attentions upon her.

* * *

All in all, the sex was nothing to write home about. It wasn't drunken, and it wasn't a sleepover, both of which were good signs. And she enjoyed making Lisa Cuddy writhe. Not just because it was Lisa's first time with a woman, but because she was Lisa Cuddy. The unsinkable. The diplomat. The tender-hearted. Most importantly, the boss.

_Not in the bedroom._

Remy had had a lot of sex before. In many different configurations. This time, it was unremarkable. Good, but unremarkable all the same. Both of her partners were very skilled, to be sure, but even so, Remy was mostly in it for the novelty. Two bosses with one stone, or something like that.

At least, that's what she told herself. Remy couldn't afford to think about her own emotions. She kept that jar locked.

In truth, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to realize her feelings toward yet another emotionally unavailable person. She didn't want to revisit Lisa's orgasm-face in her dreams. Looking up from between sticky thighs to see her curl back, gasping and shuddering, was enough. Once was enough. It had to be.

She didn't want to think about Cuddy and House - for she always thought of them in professional contexts - making love without her. Remy didn't have time to fritter like that. She had a world to save, or at least a party to attend, before the hourglass ran out. She didn't have time for pain.

So she grinned at what a good lay she'd had, donned her lab coat, and went to work. A file on the table, a bastard at the whiteboard - one of the bastards, anyway - and a Remy Hadley as blithe as a bowl full of secrets. Business as usual.


	2. House: The Aftermath

At least it hadn't been his idea. It was all Lisa; Greg had just gone along with it, because she was so damn hard to say no to. He always hated to disappoint those breasts. He could feel their coldness toward him whenever he did.

If there were one thing Greg shared a biting love/hate relationship with, it would be cold breasts.

* * *

_It was fun while it lasted._ But he knew even before anyone was naked that it would be awkward, especially for Thirteen.

Dr. Hadley.

Remy.

He had actually slipped up that night, once, and called her Thirteen. The glare he received was cute, but not worth the blazing discomfort he'd caused. _Which, come to think of it, was kind of how the whole night went._

He never actually thought he'd get the chance to sleep with Thirteen, so that was a pleasant surprise. But her body didn't make up for the fact that she worked for him. And while it was fun to see Lisa with a woman, it was less fun that he had to work with said woman the next day. And even less fun that said woman also worked for his girlfriend.

Back on the positive side, the look on Wilson's face had been priceless.

And the most important thing was that Lisa enjoyed herself. Greg supposed that it would be hard not to enjoy oneself under the tongue of a lady so practiced as Thirteen. Lisa had never squirmed so much for his own tongue. But then again, as much as he loved her, he didn't hide his excitement for the main event. For Thirteen, this _was_ the main event.

* * *

He had to wonder why Thirteen had agreed in the first place.

The vanity in him toyed with the possibility that Thirteen had a crush on him. But her workplace behavior suggested otherwise, and furthermore, she would not have done such a good number on Lisa if she had just wanted him.

Eventually, he settled on the probability that it was just her disease. She knew that time was running out, so she did crazy stuff. Like drugs and sleeping with women. And dating Foreman. This was just one more desperate stunt - sleeping with her boss, _and_ having a wild threesome. Two birds, one night.

He had convinced himself, long ago, that he was different. And he was - because he wasn't dying. But his chronic pain wasn't going anywhere, and it seemed like his life wasn't either. It was the same sabotage, the same alienation, the same blasé act.

But Greg didn't want to think on that. He flicked on the computer. _All that porn won't download itself._


	3. Cuddy: Lingering

Lisa Cuddy had seen it all. Or so she thought.

Yet here she was, tucked safely behind her mahogany desk while that woman was talking. Out of her mouth. The same mouth that one week ago was reaching up into her, tickling and caressing places Greg barely knew about. Remy - Dr. Hadley - had given her an experience she hadn't had since college.

Okay, so she had lied to Greg. Last week wasn't her first time with a woman. But she had tried so hard to forget, it was almost like a first time. Except for the relief she'd felt upon the first teasing stroke of a woman's tongue upon her clitoris. Greg did it all wrong, poking his tongue into her canal as if it were a truncated penis. But Remy knew how to swirl her tongue properly, maintaining even pressure until Lisa had come three times, practically in a row. She'd be surprised if Greg knew the difference. But Remy gave her a secret wink.

It's not that Greg was a bad lover. He was one of the better ones, in fact. And she loved him, she did. There was something there that Lisa didn't want to let go of. Passion. But sex with a woman was simply a different creature.

And now. Now it was back to the two of them, which was the way it had to be. Lisa was not really cut out for open relationships, and it's not as if she could imagine having a _relationship_ with Remy.

She was straight, after all.

Very much a hetero.

She told herself that Greg's presence had been the clincher, that it wouldn't have been the same with just Remy. But she knew it was awkward. Greg had been obliging Lisa by inviting Remy, and Remy didn't really want to engage with Greg at all. Which worked out fine because, let's be honest, Lisa was a little selfish in bed. But still, she admitted to herself that it had been awkward.

Lisa had wanted badly to reciprocate on Remy, but she was scared. Scared that she'd mess up. And more to the point, scared that Greg would think she was a lesbian when she took up the task with such enthusiasm. So she just closed her eyes and imagined. Remy made a hasty retreat a few hours later, leaving Lisa to fall asleep with just Greg.

Which was fine. Since he was her boyfriend.

And all.

She'd heard that once they hit fifty or so, women might as well be lesbians since it doesn't matter much by that point. And because men are such pains and they never get better, whereas women get progressively easier to live with. But Lisa wanted a life. A husband. Children. A real family.

Not that she could really imagine building that kind of life with Greg, if she were honest with herself. He was an irritable addict who didn't want kids. She knew it would come to a breaking point someday. But not yet, and not over this.

Not yet.


End file.
